


Remember.

by diligentclimber



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Memory Loss, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Sole survivor Sam, very sad fic you’ve been warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28700193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diligentclimber/pseuds/diligentclimber
Summary: Once she had opened the box, the bottle of memories she was keeping herself from touching for months, they started pouring like red wine, crimson and bittersweet.
Relationships: Sam Giddings & Everyone, Sam Giddings/Beth Washington, Sam Giddings/Josh Washington, Sam Giddings/Mike Munroe
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Prologue

Once she had opened the box, the bottle of memories she was keeping herself from touching for months, they started pouring like red wine, crimson and bittersweet.

She didn’t know why she had taken it in the first place. It was good where it was, on her bookshelf at the other side of her room, but yet there she was, sitting cross-legged on her floor, her back bent with fatigue, her face bent over an object she should have burned a long ago.

She had sat there on the carpet in her bedroom, hoping the box might open on its own if she stared at it long enough, too scared to remove the cover herself. She was worried that it would burn her fingers. When she opened that box, what was going to happen? Was she going to cry immediately? Was she going to find nothing there, or on the contrary, find too many things she would have preferred never to see again? She didn’t know. She didn't know what was going to happen because she had no memory of what this box contained.

After that nightmarish night on Blackwood Mountain, Sam suffered from selective amnesia, due to a head trauma she allegedly suffered but which she had absolutely no recollection of. Rescuers told her she had hit her head when she had fallen in the snow after she blew up the Washington lodge, and that post traumatic stress disorder could also play a role in her memory loss. And although after several weeks she still had burn marks on her legs and her back, and a large scar on her forehead, she refused to believe this theory. Why would she want to blow up such a beautiful place? What would have made her do this terrible action?

The box taunted her. So many questions for so few answers. And these answers, did she really want to know them? Wasn't she going to regret it bitterly? Her neurologist had told her that it would be good for her brain to dig through old things to try to find some pieces of her memory, but did she really need it? Of course, she wanted to know why none of her friends had come back with her that night. She wanted to know where all these scars came from. She wanted to know everything that had happened that night.

No, she didn't want to know. She wanted to remember. It was different.

She wanted to remember the last moment she had with them. Her friends. Her almost-family.

She wanted to know why she remembered (albeit vaguely) having spent the helicopter ride alone and chilled. She wanted to know why she couldn't call Hannah anymore. She wanted to know why Josh no longer came to visit her by surprise like he used to do all the time. 

She wanted to know why she couldn't remember. 

So she rubbed her hands on her pants (they were sweaty), took a deep breath, and brought her fingers to the box, which she then opened gently, so softly you could hear the flies flying. Air trapped in her lungs as she saw the photo album. It wasn't all there was in the box, of course, but it was the very first thing her eye caught. It was bright orange, with a dreadful cover and a sticker on it. It was written " **_Sam G._ ** " and nothing else, from her then five-year-old handwriting. She didn't even feel her lips turn into a smile as she contemplated what she was holding. Turning the first page turned out to be easier than she thought it would be, and what was her surprise when the first photo that appeared was a photo of her as a baby, in her mom's arms, a few hours after her birth. Obviously, she had no memory of when it was taken, but it wasn't because of the amnesia. 

The next ten pages, she remembered. She had never forgotten those photos. Sam in kindergarten, Sam tinkering with a glue gun, Sam on a pony, Sam and Mike playing soccer (he had just moved a few houses above hers and they had become friends), Sam and Mike roller skating on their street on a summer afternoon (he had been the first of the gang she had known). There was also a photo of Tyson, the puppy her parents adopted when she was ten. He was a fluffy husky with bright blue eyes and a crooked ear. 

Then things got a little difficult. She remembered a few photos that had all been taken from their freshman year. There were selfies she had taken with Hannah and Beth at a fun fair, or others with Josh at her Halloween party, and also the one she took of Jess and Matt at their first soccer game (Sam had taken it and wanted to keep it; Jess was so funny with her quilts and her colorful makeup, and the cheerleader uniform looked so great on her). But there were also a lot of photos that she couldn't remember. Birthdays, parties, cinema outings or sleepovers. She could always put the names on the people’s faces, but never the place or the time.

At least she knew who they were. That was the most important. Forgetting her friends would have been the most awful thing she could ever experience. 

As Sam kept turning the pages, it became more and more blurry with each picture she saw. And she hated that feeling more than anything.

So she tried. 

She stopped at every single photo in this goddamn album, and tried her hardest to  _ remember _ . 


	2. Chapter 1 : the train of life

When Beth and Sam came back from school together that day, it was with a small cardboard box. The wind whistled when the girls closed the front door behind them before they took off their shoes in the hall, hanging their jackets in the closet. November had just ended, the cold December having greeted them with open arms, and the days were beginning to shorten. Outside, the branches of trees tapped against the windows, the daylight evaporating to let the soft darkness of the night take its place. Classes usually ended around 4:00 p.m., but Sam and Beth had chosen to sign up for additional biology classes, which ended two hours later. After all, winter exams were approaching, it was a perfect opportunity for them to catch up on the few points they lacked to have a good average. Let's just say they were not very good at Biology, and that they seriously needed a boost to improve their academic results.

That night, Sam had been invited to the Washington’s, not for a sleepover, but for a much more special occasion. 

When the girls burst into the main room where Hannah and Josh were comfortably seated in the large couch, Beth let a loud sigh escape from her lips, taking off her beanie. “I’m expecting a baby,” she said flatly, dropping next to her brother without any grace or delicacy.

Josh suddenly choked on his water, coughing over and over until his face turned red, trying to stay alive. He cleared his throat one last time before turning his gaze to his sister. "You  _ what _ ?"

Hannah dropped her book on the coffee table, rolling her eyes at Sam, who was still standing beside the door with the box in her hands. 

“Sam and I are gonna be mothers,” continued Beth, ignoring how her brother almost passed out in front of her. She looked annoyed, bored and lazy, as if someone had just given her the chore of the century.

Sam put the box down on the kitchen table before running her fingers through her hair to restore them to their original shape. With a sympathetic smile, she tried to catch Josh's gaze. “We’ve been paired on an egg baby project,” she simply explained, amused when she saw relief and understanding spreading on his face. “Come on, it won’t be  _ that _ bad, Beth! It’s only for a few days, right?”

Beth swung her hands in the air before sinking further into the couch. “Easy for you to say, Giddings. You literally live in a  _ farm _ .”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” answered the twins. 

“It’s not a  _ farm _ . It’s a  _ stable _ , with … you know,  _ horses _ .”

The other three gave her a look barely flatter than a pancake.

“Yeah, okay, we also have three dogs, but that’s it. Not a farm.”

Josh arched one of his eyebrows, while the two sisters looked at each other, a desperate look in their eyes.

“ _ Not _ a  _ farm _ .” She spread her arms to either side of her body, widening her eyes in a sign of abandonment. A moment of silence passed between them. So to speak, a silence overflowing with embarrassment. Sam looked around, hopping like an impatient child on the spot. “You comin’?” she asked Beth. 

“Coming for…?”

“Beth.”

“Sam.”

“We have a biology project. And whether you like it or not, we need to take care of that egg, no matter how ridiculous it sounds.” The end of her sentence was barely audible as she sank into the kitchen already.

A sigh. Then, Beth clapped her hands on her thighs before standing up to follow Sam to the kitchen. “Yes, mom, I hear you. Loud and clear.”

***

“What are you still doing here? You scared the hell outta me.”

Sam violently jumped from her chair when the lights went on, awakening her from her half-sleep. Sleeping seated hadn’t been the best choice she’d ever made : she could already feel her back screaming at her. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you up,” she whispered, being careful not to raise her voice too much so as not to wake anyone else in the house. 

“You didn’t,” Josh replied calmly. He just stood there for a couple of seconds, watching her with a concerned look. He’d just woken up, so he was a bit confused to find Sam sitting in his kitchen with the moon for only light source. “You okay?” His voice was hoarse and low, as if he hadn't spoken for weeks.

She straightened up, bringing back some rebellious locks behind her ears before tightening her ponytail. “Yeah, hum, I’m babysitting.” She made a vague gesture towards the little cardboard box that was placed in front of her, aware of the ridiculousness of the moment. She suddenly felt childish in front of the mass of cotton wool which was now overflowing from the box. She and Beth had spent more than two hours filling it so the egg wouldn’t be "cold", also taking the time to decorate it (which they renamed George) with colored markers and googly eyes. The result … was kinda creepy, she had to admit.

“Babysitting?” he echoed. “You know it’s not gonna vanish, right? You can get some sleep, too.” He walked towards the fridge and opened it to grab some orange juice. 

“Teacher said you can’t leave a baby alone, even at night, so it applies to the egg too.” She sighed heavily, turning her head to the side to have a better sight of the full moon. There were a few clouds, which made it more difficult to perceive, but its beauty was the same. Round and white, framed by the white-hot pin pricks that were the stars in this big black sky. Sam loved watching the sky at night - it reminded her of good times where she would just lay down on the grass with her dad, trying to guess which star was her mother. She would always say it was the brighter one.

“Nice decorating for the box. A bit scary though,” Josh said as he sat down on the chair next to her.

“Why are you even awake? It’s like … who knows o’clock.” She finally turned her head to meet his eyes, arching a single eyebrow. 

She watched him stretching his arms and cracking his neck casually. “Well, you see Sammy, _some_ _people_ are still up at _who_ _knows_ _o’clock_ because they’re hearing strange noises coming from their kitchen.” He nudged her with his elbow when he saw the guilty look in her eyes. “Nah I’m kidding, I just couldn’t sleep.”

A comfortable silence fell on their shoulders as he finished his juice, her simply observing him in the pale yellow light of the spots. They weren’t really used to being alone together in the same room, it never happened a lot as the twins or Chris and Ashley were always around. 

Sam got up on her feet, stretching a little to walk towards the large window to have a better sight of the moon, Josh attentively watching her. 

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” Sam said, looking straight at the moon. She was facing one of the windows, her hands resting on the counter so that she could lean slightly forward.

"Me neither," he replied, looking at her. 

Sam turned around and came back to her chair. She glanced quickly at the box in which the egg was placed and sat down next to Josh. The silence fell on their shoulders again, but they didn’t mind. Sometimes, you didn’t need words to enjoy someone’s company. 

"You seem pretty engaged in this egg project,” he said with a mocking smile.

“Har-de-har.” She crossed her arms on the table and rested her chin on them, eyes closed. “I just really wanna know if I can make a good mother. I grew up without mine, so I hope to be able to make a good one. I know it's not easy to understand, but that's how it is. Even if I have to train on an egg to test my maternal abilities.” She softly laughed, looking at the box. “There isn’t even any chicken in it, it’s totally empty. Do you realize the absurdity?” 

They laughed quietly together, being careful not to wake anyone. 

They sat in silence again for less than a minute. It was now starting to rain, the drops hitting the kitchen windows. It was peaceful. Comfortable. Almost perfect.

Almost.

There was only one thing missing : Sam's head on his shoulder. It was all he wanted.

Sam was playing with the cotton wool. Some of it had fallen on the table and she couldn’t help but play with it. She felt the need to do something with her hands, her fingers, no matter what, she had to distract herself. Talking about her mom wasn’t easy. Of course, she’d learned to accept it throughout the years, she’d learned to cope and live with it, she’d learned to redirect the anger she felt at the fact that the world had taken the dearest person she knew too soon, but she hadn’t learned to forget. She hadn't learned to forget the pain memories caused her from time to time. It was a problem, sometimes. “I miss her.” The words came out of her mouth like overflowing water, surprising her but not only.

He watched her with a confused look, his eyes scrutinizing the changes in her face. He didn't like the way she seemed to avoid his gaze or the way her fingers trembled around the stupid cotton she was holding. “I know.”

The lights were suddenly too bright above their heads, the sound of the rain too loud. 

Sam lifted her head, still not looking at him, her eyes hanging in the air. He didn’t know if he was relieved at the fact that there were no tears in them, ready to run down her cheeks. “You know what my dad always tells me?” Not waiting for his answer, her mouth was already running by itself, spilling words without giving it any second thought. “At birth, you board the train of life. Inside, you will meet your parents, as well as your friends and other acquaintances. But everyone knows that a train always stops to let people get out at their destination. So at each stop, you see someone get out of your life like they get out of the train.”

Josh was expecting her to pursue, but she didn’t. That was the end of the story. “It’s really beautiful.”

When their eyes finally connected, something happened. Something  _ changed _ . None of them knew what exactly caused it, or what it was, but something hit them. Maybe it was the closeness of their chairs (and therefore their bodies), maybe it was what Sam had just said, maybe it was nothing. But that didn't really matter, as Sam's head had rested on his shoulder.

It was perfect.

“You know how Beth wanted the egg to be named?”

To say Josh was taken by surprise by this question would be an understatement. “ … No?” To be honest, that wasn’t really the kind of questions you were expecting to be asked in the middle of the night with a half-asleep Sam on your shoulder in your kitchen, seated in front of a freaking empty egg with googly eyes. 

“She absolutely wanted his name to be George.”

He couldn't actually see her, but he could feel her smiling in his shirt. At least he thought he could. “Okay, and…?”

She straightened up, meeting his eyes again, much to his disappointment. “Josh.”

“Sam?”

Sam put her fingers on her temples, closing her eyes. “ _ George _ . It’s the name of the egg.”

He arched his eyebrows, still confused. “Yeah, okay, you’ve already …” Then, he realized. He struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Oh no. Oh this is bad. Please don’t tell me Beth named it  _ George _ . And I thought  _ I _ was the one making bad jokes, I … God.”

“I know right? I told her we  _ couldn’t _ , but … you know Beth.” She was smiling now, and laughing a little too. She shrugged, turning her gaze back to the moon, now blurred by the raindrops running down the windows.

Josh was shaking his head, perplexed at his sister's immaturity ( _ he _ was meant to be the family clown) and amused to see Sam's eyes wrinkle because of her smile. "Wait, wait, I need to take a picture of this monster."

"You're exaggerating! It’s not that ugly!" she said, nudging him in the ribs.

But he had already pulled his phone out of his sweatpants pocket, sliding his finger across the screen to find the camera. "Are you kidding? Look at those eyes. It would even scare my father. I'm very serious."

And no matter how many times Sam tried to grab his phone from him, he still managed to take a picture of the egg, even though the light was very dim and its shape was vaguely visible. "I'll even make it my wallpaper. Just to piss you off."

And he did. For weeks, Josh had kept this ugly photo as a wallpaper. The ugly baby-egg of two seventeen year olds to greet him every time he turned on his phone.

The same photo she was looking at, in the album she held between her shaking fingers. She could remember that night now.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is the first multichapter fic I write, so I guess I’ll start by saying that uhhh don’t worry if you don’t see me updating this work really often but I am a slow writer and an art student who doesn’t have any time to breathe. So. You’ve been warned. I’ll try to post as frequently as I can though.
> 
> I absolutely do not know where I’m going with this but the idea just sort of popped up in my head while I was walking the other day and I thought I should give it a try :D PLEASE don’t hesitate to tell me if you notice any grammar/syntax or any other error in my work, English is not my first language. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr and twitter at hotdamnitsromy. I sometimes post fanarts so... yup.


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